


Selfless

by insertcleveruserhere



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Dragon Age Quest: Demands of the Qun (Inquisition), F/M, Nadine Trevelyan is too selfless, Platonic Relationships, Post-Trespasser, Romance, So i wrote a romance and kept his sexuality, Spoilers, That's why Dorian and Inquisitor are a relationship, The Iron Bull gets Jealous, but it's different, platonic friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 18:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12195756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insertcleveruserhere/pseuds/insertcleveruserhere
Summary: “Well, maybe we should just get married.”The suggestion stills everyone in the room, knocking the tense feeling right from the air, all eyes training onto Inquisitor Nadine Trevelyan. She had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole meeting, and those present – her war council, the Iron Bull, her most trusted confidant and lover, and Dorian Pavus, Magister of Tevinter, who spent the last half hour arguing with Cullen over the impending war between Tevinter and Orlais if something didn’t happen – all stared at her as if her arm had miraculously grown back.“I’m sorry, what?” Bull’s the first to break the silence, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares down at Nadine.





	Selfless

The Inquisitor had a way of being selfless. Almost annoyingly so, as most would admit. She blew up a mountain for them, risked her own life for the safety of Haven and her people, forcing her closest friends away to risk her own life. 

And it didn’t stop there. She did everything in her power to make sure the strange spirit boy who she never forgot was comfortable, and later, helped him become more human. She helped the Grand Enchanter, though she didn’t always agree with her views on the Circles, with a personal matter, going out of her way to retrieve the heart of snow white. She destroyed red lyrium across Thedas and helped cross old bridges with the roguish author, hunted down a psychotic former Lord Seeker and novella for the warrior romantic, exposed and redeemed the faux Warden, assisted the apostate elf, though she did not see eye to eye with him whatsoever, and restored the Montilyets – though they were her family – to their former status for her dear cousin. She helped the spymaster reach her Warden friend and the Warden’s elvish lover, and bring the spymaster back to the light, and was kind and encouraging to the mouthy archer, and she was just there for everyone who needed her. Her best friend allowed her to be the shoulder he cried on when he needed her most.

Even Bull, he realized, had been at the mercy of her kindness. More often than he’d like to admit.

And then she would act as if he were the bad guy when he asked her to step back, to let someone else take over for a while. They were retired now, but still, she insisted they help everyone and their cousin’s mabari. 

“Well, maybe we should just get married.”

The suggestion stills everyone in the room, knocking the tense feeling right from the air, all eyes training onto Inquisitor Nadine Trevelyan. She had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole meeting, and those present – her war council, the Iron Bull, her most trusted confidant and lover, and Dorian Pavus, Magister of Tevinter, who spent the last half hour arguing with Cullen over the impending war between Tevinter and Orlais if something didn’t happen – all stared at her as if her arm had miraculously grown back.  
“I’m sorry, what?” Bull’s the first to break the silence, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares down at Nadine.

Nadine was small, even by human standards, but everyone knew that she was one of the most powerful and influential women of the Dragon Age, but even the strongest of people would flinch when it came to dealing with the stubborn Iron Bull. Nadine had never flinched away from him, and this situation was no different. She simply rubbed her forehead and began to reason with them.

“This whole ordeal is about cosmetics until we can decipher what we really ought to do right? So, we put on a little show, give people something that’ll throw their war plans for a loop. And it’ll give the public something to look at.”

Leliana – Divine Victoria – thinks about it a moment, “I…that could work.”

“You’re supporting this?” Dorian asks, before turning to the Inquisitor, “Nadine, my dear friend, are you feeling well? You do know who you’re talking to, right?”

“Look, I know it won’t solve all our problems, but it’ll give us the time we need to find a way to solve it.”

Leliana nods, agreeing with Nadine, “A Magister and the Inquisitor…just scandalous enough to be talked about, and just enough of a distraction to make people believe that Tevinter and Orlais are forging an alliance.”

“Especially if we make it a public affair.” Josephine pipes in, “Diplomats would attend, perhaps even the Empress, if we manage to plan within her timeframe.”

Dorian shakes his head, “While many don’t know about my romantic preferences, people do know about the scandal between the Inquisitor and her Qunari consort.”

“Exactly.” The Inquisitor agrees, “It would make you look good among your peers, and me among mine, considering none are so happy about the current state of affairs. No offense, darling.”

The Iron Bull sighs, “None taken.”

“That’s preposterous!” Cullen interjects, hands resting on his sword, “The people of Ferelden won’t stand for it.”

“They don’t have to.” Josephine claims, “They just have to focus on the scandal while we fix the real problem. And with the support of our house…” Josephine glances over to Nadine, “Houses. The Montilyets and Trevelyans…” She trails off, taking her lip between her teeth as she begins to scribble something down.

“How many scandals will we have to invent, then?” 

“If it goes to plan,” Nadine says, “which it never really does, we’ll have a solution by the time the hype dies down. And, it would solve more…personal matters.” She shrugs, shooting Dorian a pointed look.

“I really don’t see how this would help.” Dorian insists.

“I’m the Inquisitor.” She explains, “The Inquisitor of something called The Inquisition. Whether or not your people like that I’m a Marcher, they’re going to have to recognize that I’m one of the power players on the board. So, you know, I’m kind of a big deal.” She shrugs, saying it so nonchalantly that it angered Dorian. “And, I really don’t know if it carries much weight in Tevinter, I am a mage. Could that be used to advantage here?”

He sighs, which turns into an exaggerated groan, “I mean…couldn’t we just kill someone important and have it be done?”

“I’m not saying we have to be loyal to one another.” She rolls her eyes, “Dorian, you’re my best friend, and I don’t want us stuck on opposite sides of the battlefield.”

Dorian’s eye catches the sending crystal around her neck, right next to the dragon’s tooth on a piece of twine, and nods, slowly at first, “It’s not uncommon for Magisters to marry and take consorts afterward, but they will expect an heir.”

Bull stands up at that, doing everything in his power to look menacing again, and says, “That’s too far.”

Leliana doesn’t flinch, “Perhaps not far enough. I think that the idea carries much weight, and that we must act quickly, lest we find ourselves on the battlefield again.”

“And I don’t know about the rest of you,” Nadine stands, and Bull watches as the arm of her shirt falls farther than the stump of an arm she had left, “but I’d really rather not find myself on the battlefield again.” 

“While I don’t agree with the idea, I can see how it would be…beneficial.” Cullen claims, doing his best to bite his tongue. “If the rest of the war council sees it fit, I agree with the plan.”

Josephine nods her head vigorously, “There’s so much to plan…the guest list, the décor, the venue – Maker! I hardly have any time to prepare a menu…perhaps we could use traditional Tevinter themes and meld them with Orlesian customs…oh, I agree with the plan if the rest of the war council sees it fit…”

“I agree.” Leliana says simply, “If the bride and groom agree.”

Nadine looks over to Dorian, pleading with him. She didn’t want another war, and this was the best idea – any idea – of them had. 

Dorian nods, “I agree.” He doesn’t think that it’s a good idea, but there’s no one he trusts more than Nadine.

Everyone grows silent, looking to Nadine for her input. She raises a brow, “I came up with the bloody plan. Obviously, I agree with it. What about you, darling?” She turns to Bull, who obviously looks a little more than torn about this.

“I…I guess…”

“We’ll talk about it more later.” Nadine promises, and Bull gives a short nod. “Well, if we’re all in agreement, I guess we can say meeting dismissed.” 

After the meeting is dismissed a half hour later, following another heated argument on the subject, Nadine and Bull retire to their room in the Winter Palace, where Bull refuses to speak to his lover.

She huffs and rolls her eyes at him, “Bull, you’re acting like a child.”

“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?”

She looks up at him, her hand on her hip as she raises a brow, “What brought this on?”

“Maybe it’s the fact that you suggested you marry another man, hm?” Bull says, motioning to the door as if it were the assailant in the situation, but he raises his voice at Nadine.  
“You told me the binding meant nothing to you.” Nadine shakes her head, shutting the door behind them as he sits on the bed, “And it means nothing to me.” She promises, and she can see him soften up a little bit.

“It’s…” Bull was the one who figured people out. He was the one who poked and prodded for information, who knew about people because he was a former Ben-Hassrath, and that used to be his job. It still, after all this time, felt odd to be the pokee, the one who was being the one poked and prodded and figured out. But he trusted Nadine more than he trusted himself, “It doesn’t.” He affirms, “But he expects the two of you to…”

“To produce an heir?” She finishes, stepping closer to him, “Bull, I love you. Dorian may be a close friend, but he’s definitely not my lover. And if we do have a child, I’ll love them like a mother should, but I will never love Dorian like I love you.”

Bull didn’t have identity crises often, but, enter Nadine and her band of an Inquisition, and he starts to realize that Nadine’s one of the most important people in the world, and she cares about him, loves him even. And when the two of those meld, all he can feel is that he isn’t good enough for her. He’s not even a Qunari anymore, merely a Tal-Vashoth, and he’s a mercenary, and he’s definitely no politician.

“I love you, Bull. No binding is going to tell me otherwise. And you know that it’s just for saving face. Mine and Dorian’s. And he’ll find his own love, and I’ll be with you. I choose to love you each and every day. I don’t need the binding.” She pushes him onto the bed, smiling down at him.

“It’s not fair when you quote my own words at me.”

“Well, perhaps you shouldn’t be so…” She presses a kiss to his jaw, “inspirational.” She cradles his cheek in her hand, looking directly in his eye for once, “And besides, we can still do the binding.” She bites her own lip for emphasis, “Any way you like.” She grabs his left hand and kisses the missing fingers there.

“You’re going to be the death of me, kadan.”

“What a way to go, hm?” Her lips envelop what remained of his ring finger, sucking gently on it until he closed his eye and grabbed hold of her waist. In an instant, he was on top of her, legs on either side of her waist, and her smile is worth it. 

Though the cataclysm had been avoided with a few reassuring words, the matter in its entirety had not been smoothed over entirely. Nadine did her best to stifle any further arguments now that the matter was settled and everyone, with the exception of Cullen and Bull, was fully on board with the plan.

The day of the wedding, Nadine found herself in Dorian’s quarters, sitting at the very edge of the bed, feeling the ghost of her hand clench and unclench her fingers. She mourned the loss of her hand and the time she spent learning how to use what was left of her limb, but eventually triumphed, as she seemed to make a habit of. Her black hair was swept into a knot on the back of her head, and she recalled the elegant dress Divine Victoria’s servants would squash her in later. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, as she waited on Dorian.

He startles her from her thoughts, walking into the room, and looks less surprised than he ought to when he sees her sitting on his bed.

“You don’t have to go through with it.” She says, listening to the cold, satisfying click of the door shutting. “I’ve been thinking it over…and we haven’t had much personal input in it all. We don’t have to do it.”

“Don’t we?” His lips curl into a wry grin, “Josephine’s only made it the most talked about topic in Tevinter, Orlais, Ferelden, Orzammar, the Marches…even Par Vollen and Seheron, if my sources are to be trusted.”

She lets out a humorless laugh, “Well, I suppose we do have to go through with it, then. You do know why I suggested it, right?”

“Nadine, I wouldn’t have gone through with this ludicrous plan in the first place if I didn’t agree with it. I may not like it, but it’s bought us time already. The publicity is astounding, but it’s not every day a Magister marries the Inquisitor.” Dorian sighs and sits next to her, “Maker, I hope Bull doesn’t kill me.”

She laughs again, this time real, and says, “Me too. He understands, I think. He knows I love him.” She takes a deep breath, “Dorian, we’re not marrying for love. You’re my best friend,” She clutches the sending crystal around her neck, “but I don’t feel for you like that. I know I’ve said it before, but…”

“I understand, Nadine. I do.”

She looks visibly relieved, looking back out in front of her. “When Corypheus was still around, right after we found Skyhold, Bull received word that the Qun were trying to make peace with the Inquisition and fight for us. I…I went along for negotiations, with…Sera and Cole, I think. And, we were just clearing out some Venatori so the Qunari dreadnought could dock, and we could officiate our truce. We split off into two groups, Bull, Sera, Cole, a member of the Ben-Hassrath and I in one, and the rest of the Chargers led by Krem in the other. It was an easy job…”

“At first?” Dorian asks, his face somber. He’d heard tell of this story, but it had been little more than ‘it didn’t work out’ and something about a choice.

“At first.” She affirms, “Our group killed all the Venatori with ease. We lit our beacon, after the other group. Bull had given them the easy job.” She gives a small smile, “He has a way of doing that, putting others first without making it obvious. Anyway, the other group was flanked. Venatori mages, about to attack. I suggested we call the retreat, urged him to, but the Ben-Hassrath contact…he said that we’d be throwing away every Qunari contact Bull had, he’d be Tal-Vashoth, and the Inquisition would not hold a truce with the Qunari. He was torn. He couldn’t choose between the life he built and the one that was built around him.”

Dorian looks like he’s about to shoot off a sarcastic quip about something, but instead, he asks, “And what happened?”

“Someone had to choose. Right then. He let it fall to me, Dorian. And so, I chose.”

“You called the retreat.”

Nadine shuts her eyes and sighs, as if she’s trying to forget a bad dream, “I called the retreat. They blew up the dreadnought. And I…I was angry. We left, and the Chargers were none the wiser. Sera and Cole knew, though. They were quiet, for once. I didn’t utter a word to Bull, and when we got back to Skyhold, I threw myself into the whole Inquisition business. Bull finally caught up to me, and we fought. I yelled, mostly. Hit him once. Cried, a lot. He let a decision that wasn’t mine fall to me, and I did it. I did what I thought was right, but he didn’t have to do anything. Dorian, you don’t have to do this.” She repeats, tears threatening to spill.

Dorian puts on a small smile, “Nadine, my dear friend. I’m not doing this for me, or even you. I’m doing it because the world needs us again. And I’m more noble than you may think, Inquisitor.” He wipes the tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

Nadine manages a tired smile, “Thank you, Dorian.”

“Now, I must prepare for the wedding of the century. Must live up to the hype, hm?” He quips, and she puts on a real smile, sitting up a little straighter. 

“Very well.” She smiles. 

After Dorian leaves, she pulls the Necklace of the Kadan off from around her neck, running her finger over the ivory of the tooth and smiles to herself, placing a small kiss on it. She hears the knock on the door, and as if she were a teen caught with a love letter, shoved it into one of the dresser drawers, turning away. 

And so, when one of Dorian’s servants – a young Tevinter elf clad in black, draped like she was attending a funeral with a piece of material covering her eyes – cinches the fine Orlesian dress around her, she tries to think nothing but happy thoughts, but the more she thought, the colder her feet became. She knew that this was what was best for the war council, to buy them the most time without starting a world war. She tried to push all thoughts from her mind then, to focus on the feeling of the corset around her chest, and hoped for the best.

Now, Josephine paced around the room, listing off an assortment of things, gossiping and complaining about others, to all of which Nadine paid no attention to. She focused on keeping her breathing steady, though the confining corset was proving to be most troublesome. 

She was also thankful that she always had her weapon with her, and though she concealed a dagger in her garter, she would always have her magic, with or without a staff. She was a mage, and a powerful one, and always felt more comfortable when she knew that she had her power with her.

Then she focuses on the dress. It fell in a single pleat to her knees, the rear falling to the ground. The gown itself was a medley of cream and ebony black, Orlesian and Tevinter fashions, neither of which belonged to her. The shoulders of the gown flared up and encircled her cheeks, the chest was a see-through material that exposed more of her skin than she liked, and the arm covering all the way down to her hand, the gloves covering the backside of her hand, encircling the bottom of her middle finger like a ring. She looks in the mirror, only met with the veiled mask across the top part of her face, black material with a lacey white pattern. The mask led to an ornate black and white headpiece, gilded with gold. 

She sighs, looking at the sewn end of her left arm.

“You look lovely, Inquisitor.” The elf claims, her eyes hidden by the veil covering her eyes, “Master will be pleased.”

Nadine turns to the woman, the sorrow in her eyes masked, “Thank you. What’s your name?”

It’s obvious she looks down at that, “Velana, Inquisitor.”

Nadine smiles kindly at her, “Thank you for everything you’ve done, Velana. Your kindness will not go unforgotten.”

“You’re too kind, my lady. I am but a lowly servant -.”

“And I’m a servant of the people.” She promises, “No matter what.” Velana’s bottom lip quivers, and Nadine thinks she’s about to cry, though she’s given little more than a few kind words. Josephine has stopped pacing, and Nadine sends Velana another smile, “Would you be so kind as to wait outside the door? I need to speak to my cousin in private, you understand.”

Velana gives a short bow, walking out of the room without another word, before turning for her dear friend and ambassador.

“What do you think, Josephine?”

Josephine wipes away at her eye, “You look beautiful, as always, dearest cousin. Under different circumstances…”

Nadine steps away from the mirror and nods, agreeing with Josephine, “Under different circumstances, things would be different. But, this is what we’ve been dealt, so…we must take it in stride.”

“You must have gotten your wisdom from the Montilyets, Nadine.” Josephine teases, a smile playing at her lips. Nadine was not the only one dressed up for the occasion; Josephine’s hair was draped around her chin in elegant pleats, and wore a traditional Antivan gold and royal blue evening gown. “But, everyone we know is here, and thus, you must merely look as beautiful as you do now.”

Nadine gives a small smile, “I suppose we ought to get it over with, hm?”

“I…I understand what you’re doing, Nadine, but are you certain that this is the best path?”

“It has already bought us time.” She admits, “And it is the most tactically advantageous.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Nadine. Will this make you truly happy?”

Nadine sighs, “Of course not. Dorian and I are merely platonic friends. I love The Iron Bull. But, we all know what’s expected.” 

Josephine purses her lips, “Very well. We wouldn’t want you to be late to your own wedding.”

The wedding, as promised, appeared to be the largest social event of the season. The guest list included, but wasn’t limited to, Empress Celene and Briala, her lover, diplomats from Orzammar, Antiva, Ferelden, Orlais, Tevinter, the Free Marches, and Nevarra. Grand Enchanter Fiona sat to the far right, and Divine Victoria – Leliana – stands near Dorian at the front of the hall. Vivienne sat with the other diplomats, and Cullen and Cassandra near her. Nadine saw her dearest friends huddled close to one another on a single row of seats. Sera, Thom “Blackwall”, and Varric sit next to one another, and Nadine feels her heart sink when she doesn’t find Cole in the crowd. 

Bull is sitting between Blackwall and Varric, looking the most uncomfortable of them all, and she’s certain it’s not because of the silly red uniforms Josie probably made them – Sera, Vivienne, Bull, Thom, Cullen, Varric, and Cassandra – all wear. Suddenly, all eyes are on her, but she finds herself staring at Bull.

He can’t see her eyes, she realizes, but she can see the longing in his eye, the pain that’s really hidden there. They all look deathly still, and the room is silent as she approaches the front of the hall.

“Lady Nadine Trevelyan, of the Ostwick Circle of Magi, daughter of Bann Marcus Trevelyan. Former Leader of the Inquisition, and the Herald of Andraste. Comtesse of Kirkwall.” Varric would thank her for that one later. “And Magister Dorian Pavus, of House Pavus, Former Attendant of the Inquisition, and the Most Trusted Confidant of the Herald of Andraste.”

Dorian looks as uncomfortable as she feels, standing next to Divine Victoria. He rubs his hands together, adjusts his collar, fixes the mask covering the top portion of his face, anything so he doesn’t have to look at Nadine. 

He forces a smirk, “Attendant of the Inquisition? Really, who comes up with these titles?”

“We still don’t have to go through with it.” She whispers as she accepts Dorian’s hand, catching Bull’s eye as the crowd sits in time, as if it had been choreographed. The only one left standing is Sera before Blackwall pulls her down.

Leliana – Victoria – begins with the opening remarks, and Nadine looks out into the crowd. He sees who must be Dorian’s mother, and then her own family, Bann Marcus Trevelyan, Lady Freya Trevelyan, Sister Diana Trevelyan, Rosalie Trevelyan, and, her brothers, Sers Pratt and Carter Trevelyan. It’d been years since she’d seen them, and her heart picks up a few beats. The Montilyets and Trevelyans litter the crowd, and suddenly, her entire world begins to spin.

But still, she accepts the wine when Dorian offers it to her, and he says his vows, and they remove one another’s masks.

The Iron Bull is always easy to distinguish in crowds, especially when not around other Qunari. Her eyes scan the crowd as Dorian pulls the veil away, and her stomach sinks.  
He’s gone. 

She does, in fact, spot Cole, sitting atop one of the eaves above a window. Sera and Blackwall look like they’re going to burst at any moment, and the rest of her Inner Circle look as uncomfortable as she.

“And, do you, Nadine, take this man to be your husband?”

A beat passes. Dorian looks at her expectantly, and now, she can see his eyes, and she can truly see it now.

He doesn’t want to go through with it.

“I…”

Her eyes pass over the crowd. Sera’s gone, her blood red shirt missing from the sea of dull colors. Cassandra is near the back door, grimacing. Cullen looks like he’s about to go on a tangent, and Josephine looks like she’s about to cry – not the happy wedding tears, either.

“I…I can’t.”

The entire audience gasps, and even Leliana looks surprised. Dorian stares at her as if she’d grown a second head, and she can’t believe she actually said it. No one moves for half a moment, and when the half a moment passes, she runs. Back down the aisle and out the door because she needs to find Bull and she needs to let him know because he is everything to her, and she knows she’s allowed to be selfish, even if it is just this once. 

This sort of thing only happened in Varric’s novels – the bride ran from the altar, tearing away all the false bearings, running to the arms of her true love. She hated herself for leaving, as it had been her idea in the first place.

She knows that the world will hate her for this, but she can live with that.


End file.
